Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
“No matter what,” I echo.
We come together again, lips meeting slow and steady, sealing our vow with a kiss. And then she leads me to the front desk, where we collect the key to the Snowman Suite from a beaming Kayla and a sassy-as-ever Greg.
Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, he calls after us.
Glancing over my shoulder, I shoot back, “Considering you’re neutered, buddy, I think that might be a problem.”
Greg cackles, That’s what you think, Sad Sack. Your boy’s been tapping ass left and right in this one Tomcat town. Come spring, you’re going to be a grandpa. Probably several times over.
“Shit,” I mutter.
Caroline arches a brow. “What’s wrong?”
“I think Vivian might have lied about Greg being neutered, too.”
She hums thoughtfully. “It’s possible, I guess.” Her lips quirk up as she adds, “Or you might possibly, just possibly…be imagining things. As clever as Greg is, I don’t think he actually has telepathic powers of conversation he employs solely to torture you.”
That’s what she thinks, Greg crows gleefully before leaping off the front desk and prowling toward the giant tree near the fireplace. Now, scram, you two. I have ornaments to destroy. That angel at the top has been taunting me for days. It’s time to settle the score with that winged creep, once and for all.
I sigh, shaking my head as I turn back to Caroline. “Well, either way, there’s nothing we can do about it now. I’ll look around for a local vet as soon they’re open after the holiday, and we can take things from there.”
Oh no, you won’t, Greg calls from the base of the tree. Touch my stuff, and I’ll touch your stuff. With my claws. You’ll be a eunuch by Valentine’s Day.
Ignoring the horny menace I unintentionally unleashed upon the innocent female cats of Reindeer Corners, I follow Caroline down the hall to our room, where we shut the door and come together with twin sighs of relief.
“I thought I’d never squeeze your ass again,” I say, gripping the twin swells of her delicious backside as we kiss our way across the thick carpet toward the bed in the corner. “I was so broken up about it, I could barely function.”
“Me, too,” she says gripping the bottom of my sweater and dragging it up and over my head. She tosses it aside and pulls me close again, murmuring, “Everything felt wrong and stupid without you. I was considering moving into a cave and becoming a crusty hermit.”
“No way,” I say, bunching the bottom of her sweater dress—the black one I bought for her, a fact that gave me hope as soon as I walked in the door—in my hands. “You’d be a hot hermit.”
She arches a dubious brow, holding my gaze as I draw the fabric up to her ribs, seconds away from unwrapping the only present I want this holiday season. “Says the man who’s never seen me first thing in the morning.”
“I can’t wait to see you first thing in the morning,” I say, joy flooding through me at the thought…and at the sight of her now standing in front of me in nothing but a black lace bra and tiny panties. “Let’s go to sleep right now, so morning will come faster.”
She laughs as she steps away, propping a teasing hand on her hip. “Yeah? Right now? Do not pass go, do not rip off the rest of our clothes and bang like frisky reindeer?”
I hum beneath my breath, intrigued. “And how do frisky reindeer bang, Ms. Cane?”
“How about I show you, Mr. Fenton,” she says, her eyes dancing as she tackles me onto the bed.
And then her lips are on mine and our hands are everywhere and I’m the happiest man on the Eastern Seaboard. Hell, probably the Western Seaboard, too. My friends in L.A. are all overworked and miserable, pawns in the Hollywood game ninety-nine percent of us will never win.
But I don’t need Hollywood or reality television or a writing gig on a sketch show like the ones I loved as a younger man.
All I need is her, my girl, my other half, my best friend.
As I cup her breasts in my hands, worshipping her nipples with my mouth as she sinks down on my cock, every slick, sweet inch of her a miracle I vow never to take for granted, I’m whole. With Caroline rocking on top of me, her silky hair falling around my face and her soft moans like a choir of angels in my ears, I lack nothing. I could live on her kiss, leap mountains in a single bound fueled only by the memory of her pussy gripping me tight as she comes.
“Leo! Oh God, Leo. Damn, you feel so good,” she cries, clinging to me as her body pulses around my cock.
I roll on top of her, devouring every sexy sound spilling from her lips as I urge her legs tighter around my waist. I take her harder, deeper, promising with every thrust of my hips that I’m hers and she’s mine and I’m never going to leave her lonely again.